Monday, October 22, 2018

Duncan Zimba -- my man Friday in Lilongwe

Duncan Zimba -- my driver and "my man Friday"


LILONGWE, MALAWI, AFRICA--So you've just blown into Lilongwe, a city of 670,000 according to the 2008 census. Lilongwe is the capital of Malawi, the world's 6th poorest country,and you want to find your way around. Who you gonna call?

How about my man Friday, Duncan Zimba?

Everybody knows who "Friday" was.

In my childhood, every American school child knew "Friday" as the right hand man of David Defoe's character, Robinson Crusoe, who found himself shipwrecked and castaway on an uninhabited island. "Friday" was the name he gave to a native he had saved from Cannibals, because they met on a Friday.

Duncan saved me!

Well in the case of Duncan, I didn't save him -- he saved me. A professional driver, he turned out to become my transportation in Malawi, but more importantly, my mentor. The time we spent together and the things we talked about led into an enterprise of sorts, which I hope will
thrive despite daunting odds. If you end up in Lilongwe, Duncan is the man to call.

K80,000 = $108

And here's how you do it. You go to the Web address, lilongwekwacha.com;  select "Personal Transportation" in the business index on the left side of the page; in the panel that opens, click on "Central Bridge Taxi." That leads you to Duncan's profile.

Last summer, Dunca's day rate using his vehicle was something like 20,000 Kwacha. That sounds like a lot, until you understand that all that kwacha only amounts to about $27.54 in today's U.S. currency. As the photo at the right illustrates, it takes a lot of kwacha bills to come up with real money. It's my understanding that the government tried to increase the smallest bill from 2,000 to 5,000 kwacha, but that idea failed because the public thought that was a move to devalue the currency.

Don't lose that address!

Now if you are heading to Lilongwe, you need to hang on to the Internet address I just gave you for Duncan's business profile, because last summer when I needed a driver, there was only one semi-credible listing that I found, using Google. Fortunately I already knew about Duncan through an acquaintance, so I called on him. Since then  you can now find three drivers via Google, but to communicate with them before you leave, you have to  contact them using WhatsApp. One of them takes e-mail queries.

Things may be changing -- Almost a year ago, The Nation, an online news medium, reported that the average time to register new businesses in Malawi had dropped from 37 days to five, so maybe more small businesses will start to appear.


Good Morning, Lilongwe!

The reason I'm sharing this with you is to put into perspective what Duncan, I and a couple other individuals have created -- an online business directory for Lilongwe. I don't think anyone else has done this -- yet! -- and it's my hope that this Web site, called "Good Morning Lilongwe!" will become a boon for Lilongwe's small businesses. (The internet address, "LilongweKwacha.com," is a play on words, because, "kwacha," the name for the currency, means "dawn" in Chichewa. There are at least 15 languages spoken in Malawi; English it the commercial language and Chichewa is the major native tongue. The name of the Web address is similar to saying "Seattle Dollar," or "Seattle Dawn." That  won't be hard for the locals to remember. The Web address compliments the Web site's actual name, "Good Morning Lilongwe!"

The notion for this concept came up one afternoon when Duncan was helping me with errands around Lilongwe and we pulled up in a parking lot for a lunch break. Not too far from us, men were cleaning cars which city or business employees had parked there. They were using buckets of water filled from a spigot. Part of their fee covered the cost of the water. A person might wash 10 cars a day to make a living, Duncan said.

Walking through the lot was a man with a platter on his head covered with oranges. He wasn't supposed to be there, and would have to  head for the hills if  city councilmen showed up, Duncan explained. (In Lilongwe, the term "city councilmen" referred to the police.)

The words, "city council" actually mean "police station." This one was at the Zambia border.

Internet time is pricey

I asked Duncan why it was hard to find Google businesses on the internet in Lilongwe. He explained that, in Lilongwe, Internet time is very expensive. This means developing an Internet presence is very costly, because it takes Internet time to create a Web site. So sponsoring a Web site is out of reach for most small businesses. Newspapers  are read primarily by the people who can afford them and are not widely read. Advertising there would be expensive for small businesses If small businesses had the resources to create a Web page to advertise their goods, Google probably wouldn't find them anyway, which defeats the purpose.

What if Google were unnecessary?

But what if there were a site that indexed and networked small businesses and was so well known that Google would be unnecessary? That's what we have tried to create -- an index site for local blusinesses that locals can access on their cell phones without the need to own an expensive computer. You can find lilongwekwacha.com on your own cell phone. Try it!

The pattern below the title  is actually a photo of a style of rock wall common in Lilongwe.

My colleague, Roger Matthews, who spends part of his time in Covington, WA, and part in Casa Grande, AZ, developed and supports the site. I manage it from Seattle. The development outlay is less than $200 annually, making it possible for Lilongwe businesses to have a communication network without paying more than they can afford. At this time, a small business is listed free if the owner performs some sort of community service.

K1,000 photo


While the site exists, it hasn't been easy to grow it; after 90 days there are probably only 10 listings. There are a lot of roadblocks that get in the way, including just the reliability of the internet and developing a team to make it work. This concept has gone from a notion, to an idea, to a reality. Now we just have to make it an accomplishment, and there are some indications that this might just happen.

This isn't the only thing that has made my time with Duncan so enjoyable. When I wanted to haggle with someone over bananas or oranges sold at the side of a road, or shoot a photo of a woman making gravel with her five-pound sledge hammer, he was there  to explain to her what I wanted,  and haggle over the price in Chechewa. The price was K1,000, or about $1.35 U.S. When I wanted to go to a nice restaurant, he knew just where to take me. Did I want to shop? he could get me there.

Duncan knew where the clean toilets were.


Lucky with art

Duncan was my driver to the Dzaleka refugee camp, which you will read about  in a future posting. He helped me buy the tickets to recharge my phone time, and find the groceries I wanted to take back to my room. He was the one who warned me to lock my room whenever I left it to make sure my property stayed put. He explained to me that "Lucky," the club-footed man who sold me drawings, was overcharging me and that the drawings really were actually just reprints. Of course, he couldn't say that to me before the purchase, because Lucky was standing there and knew who he was. (Taxi drivers are like barbers. They see and know everyone, and everyone knows them.)


How Duncan got started

Duncan didn't set out to be a driver. He fell into it just like one thing leads to another. While we were at the car wash watching food vendors balance plates of fruit on their heads, I acknowledged my appreciation for their skills. That's when he disclosed that at age 10 he was balancing 30-pound loads on his head as he helped his family carry things home when he was living in a village far from Lilongwe.

Those were the days when extended families were large. A cousin who lived with the family moved out and became a fisherman. Duncan had an accounting diploma, and his cousin hired him to manage the books. Duncan discovered in the process that taxi services were expensive, and that's when he decided to get into the taxi business. He has grown his reputation by being the taxi service for embassies -- there are many embassies in Malawi's capital city.

Duncan dresses for such clientele -- wearing conservative but smart clothing that conveys dignity and credibility. I was surprised to learn that his shoes cost 75,000 kwacha. That's about $100 in U.S. currency. But he also was delighted to try out a pair of The Shoe that Grows, which he found quite comfortable. I'm promoting this wonderful product, which expands as a child's feet grow, making it possible for a child to have shoes for several years -- and sometimes to attend schools which demand footwear. It only costs $15 to sponsor a pair; if you want to do this, there's a link in the upper right portion of this page.

When you rely on Duncan, he has your back. One day I wanted to go to Tsoka, the city's flea market. It's a place where a person could feel uncomfortable on a first visit, because you are dealing with some very disadvantaged individuals. Assaults on people are very rare in Lilongwe, Duncan assured me. But car break-ins are more likely. He stayed with the vehicle while I turned on the Go-Pro camcorder which was strapped to my chest and partly concealed by my coat, and I went walking. Several individuals realized that I was filming, and some were a little disgruntled,but nothing happened. I managed to snag several candids -- something I wouldn't have tried if I hadn't had my man Friday assure me that nothing bad was likely to happen.

Bearing her load on her head, a woman passes a line of men selling shirts at Tsoka.

The shirt seller at the right is snacking on a stalk of sugar cane.



It seems to me that grit and determination keep the locals swimming in this sea of competition.


There's no question that these people are hard working; what they lack is opportunity.


The colors of this booth suggest to me that the owner is Rastafarian.


Driver on retainer

After a few days of riding with Duncan, I offered a retainer of 6,000 kwacha a day to be able to call on him for half of each day for transportation. That amounted to about $16 per day and included the right for him to specify the time and pick up other passengers along the way. This worked for him, because it gave him predictability in a business that is on-call by its nature.

That's enough for now. There's more to tell -- about the One World Futbols I distributed and about the Dzaleka refugee camp. At least that much. And I'm behind schedule. I wanted to write about Duncan a month ago and got waylaid. And now, in 10 days, I'm heading to Cambodia, with 20 One World Futbols in tow. I'm going to visit Angkor Wat, a World Heritage Site temple built by the Khmer people hundreds of years ago. And I'll be visiting a fishing village, where people on the other side of the world know who I am, for reasons to be explained. So I may still be telling one story while I start telling the next one. It happens.

Love,
Robert





                    And Shu